


Perfectly Imperfect

by Freaky123



Category: cirque du freak
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28765737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freaky123/pseuds/Freaky123
Summary: Mika finds himself distracted by a certain blond General one day in the Hall of Princes
Relationships: Mika Ver Leth/Kurda Smahlt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Perfectly Imperfect

Mika gazed at the blond General with interest. Kurda had never caught his eye before, but this time was different. For some reason Mika found himself- attracted- to Kurda. 

Blond pacifist Kurda who didn’t like to have his hands bloody during their General training. Kurda, the slim and her strong General who rescued people from a burning building and had time to spare, so he decided to patch up Mika himself- often stumbling over his words and repeating the word Sire. Mika slouched in his throne and placed a finger on his upper lip before thinking. 

Kurda’s hair looked soft- much softer than his own- and he wondered if it was as soft as it looked. 

For the first (but not last) time, he found himself wondering about a future with Smahlt. About waking up next to him in a coffin with their bodies pressed against each other. Nothing sexual (not entirely all the time, though) about it at all. Just pure intimacy. 

And the two just sitting and watching the sunset in an inlet that’s only accessible by Mika’s room of course. Mika sat there all the time to ponder about happenings, but it got lonely. Not that he would ever admit it, of course. 

Kurda was now laughing at a joke that Vanez made. Three of the five generals there glared at him, and Kurda stopped laughing. He reddened at the neck, and Mika noticed a slight tremble in his hand as he pointed at the map. Mika’s blood boiled. Kurda’s opinions didn’t make him popular within the Mountain, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve that. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Paris asked calmly. Mika tore his gaze from the General and shook his head. He uncurled his knuckles as well- didn’t know those were in a fist. 

“Just daydreaming,” he said absently. Paris nodded and clapped a hand on Mika’s shoulder. 

“Does this daydream happen to have blond hair?” He asked lowly enough for the others on the floor to not hear. Mika reddened at the ears, but said nothing. Paris chuckled. 

“I thought so.” 

Mika trained his gaze back on the blond General and analyzed the curvature of his lips and hips. He smiled wryly as he thought of them in his hands, of Kurda kissing him back. 

Kurda suddenly looked back at Mika, which was the last thing Mika expected. 

Mika glared at him, and Kurda lowered his eyes to the floor in apology, and back to the paper they went. 

Mika panicked. He didn’t mean to do that- his face just automatically frowned whenever someone looked at him. 

“Kurda,” he whispered faintly. Kurda didn’t hear him, thankfully, but Paris did. 

Mika ruined it. He wanted to run down and kiss him, tell him that he had been watching him for months and couldn’t work up the courage to talk to him. A vampire prince couldn’t talk to a General- how pathetic. 

He just had to forget it. It wasn’t going to happen anyway- they had very opposing political views, and Kurda was on the verge of princehood. Vancha had told him about the plan to nominate him, and while he agreed with Vancha, he knew that it would instantly get wiped off the table if he and Kurda hooked up before the vote. 

He would be accused of sleeping his way to the top, and Mika didn’t want that for either of them. 

So he chose to wait and watch from afar, satisfying himself with the mere looks of the man known as Kurda Smahlt.


End file.
